Singe

by Casey Hays

  “I’m just being realistic. All the more reason you should extract something small and non-mammal first.”

  Non-mammal. Frankie’s way of saying you might kill a creature, but a piece of corn is safe.

  “Kane is out there, Frankie.” I open the fridge and pull out two bottles of water, handing one off to her. “Rylin is out there. I have to be out there too. And if I can pull something in—whatever it is—then I have a better chance of—” I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. Doing anything just seems better than doing nothing. “So you’re with me, or you’re not, but I’m doing what I have to.”

  “I’m with you.” She pops the lid free from her water and takes a swig. “But let’s be smart about it, okay?”

  I squint at her. “Of course.”

  “We have four pills, two doses.” She sets the tiny cup of pills on the bar. “I have an idea.”

  “Okay.” I roll my water bottle between my palms.

  “I happen to have some less potent sleeping pills in my bag.”

  Seriously? Does everyone I know have a prescription for sleeping pills?

  “Where did you get them?”

  “Swiped them off my dad.” A mischievous twinkle sparkles, like this one act makes her a true rebel. “But that’s not the point. You need two of these to knock you out.” She taps the bar twice with her forefinger. “If you take one of these with one of my dad’s, we make them last longer. Not only that, but you can then sleep in segments, so that if anything happens while you’re out, you’ll more easily wake up. Or in your case, you will become alert. Aware.” She props her chin in her hand. “You’re quite the enigma.”

  “Thanks for that.” I’m still not quite used to this whole I-don’t-sleep idea.

  “At any rate…” She holds up her hands, palms to the ceiling with an easy bow of her head. “If you’re planning to try and extract something, this is smart. And it allows me the freedom to administer another dose sooner than six hours if necessary.”

  I wait another anticipatory second before I grin. It really is a great plan. So great that I suddenly feel a tiny bit less fearful about the whole thing.

  “Okay. We do it your way.”

  “As we always do in the end,” Frankie says. “You do want this little endeavor of yours to be successful, after all.”

  I laugh. Truth. And believe it or not, there isn’t an ounce of arrogance in her tone as you might expect. Not Frankie. Her brain won’t allow her to be anything but humbly intelligent.

  Everyone really does need a Frankie Melmack.

  Twenty-six

  Frankie sits in a chair across from my bed, a six-pack of energy drinks on the floor beside her. She’s determined to stay awake all night if she has to.

  “I’ll wake you up in four hours if you don’t wake up on your own. You should be less groggy with the way we’ve administered the pills. If you need to go back under, we’ll do it.”

  I glance at the large numbers on the clock next to my bed. It’s barely ten, but I lie down flat on my back, my key necklace tight in my grip, and try to relax into the soft sounds of the electrical wires buzzing in the walls and the sound of the air conditioner whispering through the vent. Kane has been gone for at least three hours, and the sooner I fall asleep, the sooner I can let him in. The problem is, I’m not tired.

  After a good fifteen minutes, I begin to wonder of I’m ever going to fall asleep. I roll over. The key falls, the chain slithering through my fingers. I toy with its edge, running my thumb along the teeth. My brother enters my thoughts. I wonder what he’s doing right now. If he’s still safe at Cedar Hills like Petra assured or if time is running out to rescue him. Is Mom still there with him? Did she go home? Is she wondering what happened to me?

  I roll onto my back again, huffing. The clock reads ten-thirty. I sigh and sit up.

  “Frankie, I—”

  The six-pack of energy drinks, minus one, sits in the same place on the floor, but the chair is empty.

  “Frankie?”

  The bathroom door stands wide open. No Frankie in there. I slide out of bed, careful to unhook the vest from the monitor before heading for the living room.

  “Frankie?”

  Other than the glow of my skin, the whole place is dark. Irritated, I flip on the light switch. Nothing happens.

  “Great,” I mumble.

  Out of the corner of my eye, something moves. I turn.

  A shadow hunkers close to the window, shivering. Panic makes a tiny appearance in the back of my mind, but I hold it steady, right at that low level, and take a small step.

  “Frankie?”

  “Jude.”

  I freeze. That’s not Frankie’s voice.

  It’s Rylin’s.

  Heart pounding, I try the light switch again. The room floods bright this time. I spin toward him, but no one is there.

  “Rylin?”

  I move forward, drop to my knees to look under the desk. I check behind the couch. He’s nowhere. Standing, I scratch my head, bumping into one of the monitor wires. It comes loose in my hand, a large wad of my hair with it. I stare at it, shocked.

  I make my way back to my bedroom. The smell of roses hits me almost immediately. I stop in the doorway and peer in.

  My bed looks exactly the same as I left it, minus my key necklace. I walk over, stare at the spot where I left it. There’s something significant in this.

  I take in a breath.

  “I’m dreaming,” I whisper.

  I look at the mass of hair in my hand, pull it free from the glue and plop back onto my head. It grows back into place instantly. I will it, and the buckles on the vest begins to unravel. The wires lift away, the glue slides free and floats on the air next to me. In the time it takes to snap your fingers, all of it sails toward the floor.

  The clock reads ten-thirty.

  I inhale. The smell of roses fills up my lungs. I exhale, inhale again. This time, vanilla. I smile.

  I’ve found him.

  “Kane?”

  ***

  The world falls silent, and I fall, down, down, down, until I land in a bed. My head lands sofly onto Kane’s bare chest. It rises and falls beneath my cheek. I hear his heartbeat hammering softly in his throat, hear the lingering sounds of his mantra on the edges of my mind. I feel safe. No fear.

  “I found Rylin” His whisper is so close it tickles my ear. “He won’t stop crying.”

  “Why?”

  “His dad is dead.”

  I swallow the bile that rises in my throat. So it’s true. I know what it feels like to lose your father to the Contingent. Kane’s arm shifts, pulling me closer.

  “I’m worried about Rylin. He should have been back days ago.”

  “I found him,” Kane repeats, the muscles of his arms shimmering. He laces his fingers together behind me, creating a comfortable nook at my back. I press closer into him, mentally and physically. “And I’ll bring him back here.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise. But you have to promise me something too.” He says it aloud. The air bounces off his lips to disturb my hair.

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t wait for me if you can’t.”

  I tense. He’s preparing me for when he doesn’t come back, and I cling to him a little tighter. I don’t want him to go, and I do. He has to go.

  “You don’t know what you can do yet, Jude. Find out. Promise me.”

  He looks at me. Smoke rises up all around us, and it’s that look. Not a dream look. A real one. The one custom-designed just for me. The one that reminds me of how much this boy cares for me—would die for me even.

  “You really think I could do it?”

  “I think you can do anything you put your mind to. I’ve always thought that, Gallagher.”

  His smile penetrates deep in my heart, echoing back at him in a whirlwind of fire. I pull myself up and meet his lips, fire against fire, and the sense of calm I was hoping for ignites and streams over me like a fountain. L
ike always, Kane—my strongest advocate and my fierce protector. Even inside my dreams.

  But wait. I pull away and look at him. Closely. He said I wasn’t ready. But for what? I can’t remember.

  I sit up. Someone knocks on my bedroom door.

  “Jude!”

  It’s Kane. I turn; I’m alone in the bed.

  “Jude, it’s me. Let me in. Hurry!”

  Frantic. He’s scared. I stumble out of the bed, tripping over the monitor. Angry, I kick it. It flies across the room and shatters against the wall. The knocking gets louder.

  “Jude? Are you in there? You said you’d let me in. You promised. Please, open the door. It’s cold out here.”

  He starts to weep. I stand, but I hold still. That’s not Kane.

  “Go away!” I feel the command in the bottom of my soul. The knocking stops, the weeping subsides.

  A cornfield rises up all around me. Tall, lush stalks, taller than me by three heads at least. I stare up through them to the night sky full of stars.

  “Look at all of them?”

  I turn. Kane lies beside me, flat on the trampoline in my backyard. Only corn stalks surround us. I don’t remember that growing up. Kane leans up on one elbow.

  “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  He does. Something rolls into my side and stops with a thud against me. I push Kane away and sit up. It’s his helmet. I lift it.

  “Take it,” he says.

  “Why?”

  “To prove to me you can.”

  He stands and bounces, higher and higher until he vanishes into the stars in a streak of light.

  I never thought I’d see a boy on fire flying across the night sky. I blink at the helmet, and I remember.

  “I’m dreaming.”

  My thoughts are interrupted by Kane’s mind bumping into mine.

  “Where’d you go?”

  “One step at a time.”

  He squeezes my hand, and I cling to his. I’m scared to wake up.

  “Where’s Rylin?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I blink. We’re in the room again. I hold the helmet with both hands.

  “You said you found him. Is he dead?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Someone knocks.

  “Jude…”

  Rylin. His voice is weak., and I know… he’s dying.

  My heart thumps fierce. There’s a symbol on the door. A star. Kane stands beside me. I point.

  “There.”

  And he’s gone.

  ***

  “Jude, wake up.”

  A gentle nudge. I pry my eyes open. The room spins a full circle. I stare at the white-washed ceiling—and Frankie’s face hovering just beneath and over me. It’s blurry.

  “Has it been four hours?” My voice is sluggish, like I’ve swallowed mud. I clear my throat and sit.

  “Nope. It’s only been two.”

  I look up. Frankie’s expression is totally readable. Full of an excitement she can’t even contain. Even her eyes shielded by her lenses can’t hide it. I tug downward on the cumbersome vest that constantly wants to jab me in the chin.

  “Then why did you wake me?”

  Kneeling beside me, she says nothing, unable to stop the smile that continuously spreads wider and wider across her pale face. What the heck is going on with her?

  “Frankie, why did you wake me up?” I repeat. “I was with Kane, and I was that close to letting Rylin in. I might know their location by now if you let me sleep.”

  “I think you found their location just fine. Or at least Kane’s.”

  “What are you talking about?” I crinkle my nose at her. “My dream was just as chaotic as always, but maybe I could have pieced some things together if—”

  Without warning, she reaches behind me and drags something onto my lap. And the world as I used to know it shrinks out from under me one more degree.

  “Did Kane take that with him when he left?”

  Frankie nods at the object balanced on my thighs. Kane’s blue and purple helmet. The one that exactly matches his Kawasaki. The one with the long scratch across the top left side where he drove right under a giant tree branch once that nearly knocked him off his bike. The one I’ve seen hundreds of times over the years. And I’m speechless.

  “You did it,” Frankie whispers. She grabs my wrist, shaking me as both wonder and certainty take over her voice, neither emotion willing to give in to the other. “You did it, and I will never doubt you again.”

  That’s doubtful. But… I did it. I drop my hands over the smooth surface, rounding out my palms against the natural curve of the helmet.

  “I don’t know how.” I look to her for an explanation. “I didn’t do anything to make this happen.”

  Just like the water.

  “Well, what do you remember?”

  The helmet grows heavy in my lap, like it wants to remind me of its concrete presence. A witness of my reality.

  “I couldn’t sleep. Not for like a half hour.”

  “That’s not true. You were asleep in minutes.”

  “No. I tossed and turned and—” I stop short, turning to dig through the blankets. The helmet tips and plunges to the floor. I disregard it, scrambling to my knees, feeling my way through the sheets. There it is. My key. I pluck it up by the chain, and I remember.

  “I had my key in my hand, and I was thinking about my brother. I sat up and you were gone. So I went into the living room to look for you, and Rylin was in there.”

  “In there?” She thumbs toward the door.

  “Yeah. He was shivering, but he vanished when I turned on the lights.” I look at her. “I came back in here and saw that my key was gone. That’s when the dream started.”

  “I don’t think so, Jude. I haven’t moved from that chair in two hours, not until that helmet appeared out of nowhere. And you never got up.”

  “So I was dreaming the whole time?” I feel crazy. “How am I supposed to know when a dream starts in the real world?”

  “Maybe that’s the answer.” Her excitement kicks up another notch. “Maybe the true goal is to keep yourself in that state of mind while knowing it’s only a dream at the same time.”

  “How? Because I don’t feel like I’m asleep at all.”

  “Well, technically, you don’t sleep.” She bends for the helmet. “Forget Star Trek. The reality of what you’ve done is much more satisfying.”

  “That’s not helping.” I shove another annoying wire out of my face. I need to get back in there.

  “Just know that I am not going to leave this chair.” Frankie assures me. She deposits the helmet on the dresser. “So if I’m not here at any point, you’re not awake. Understood?”

  “What if I’m not awake, and you are there?”

  “Then… look for something out of the ordinary. Something that would never define me.”

  “I don’t know if that will work.”

  “Just try, Jude.” She finally allows full-on amazement to trickle into her words. “You pulled a freaking helmet out of your dream. I’m pretty sure you can do this.”

  I try to believe this as I down round two of the pills and weave the chain tightly around my fingers. I plan to make solid contact with one of the guys this time, fully aware of it and on purpose. My mantra hums low, but I raise the volume quickly. No fooling around.

  “The mantra is everything,” I mumble.

  If Frankie heard, she doesn’t respond. I repeat it to myself, in Jezik.

  The mantra is everything.

  The mantra is everything.

  Twenty-seven

  I stare at the ceiling. Here we go again.

  My mantra beats in my ears. So loud. Too loud. I try to tone it down; it only gets louder.

  Okay… this isn’t helping. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and sit up.

  “Okay, Frankie, I tried, but—”

  Her chair is empty, and … my necklace is gone. A search of the bed proves that it’s nowhere i
n this room.

  “Okay.” I stand, press my hands against my cheeks and think. “I’m dreaming. Hold on to that thought, Jude. Hold on.”

  The knock at the door makes me jump. I take a deep breath, backing away from it. I need to remember something. What do I need to remember?

  “The mantra is everything.”

  Kane’s voice echoes in my head. It sends a thrill up my spine. That’s it. Control the mantra, control yourself, control the dream.

  I focus, and just like that—even in my dreams—my mantra obeys me. It sinks in volume enough for me to think without losing it. The knock comes again.

  “Jude?”

  It’s Kane.

  “Jude, have you seen my helmet?”

  I peek at the dresser. No helmet. This is definitely a dream. So I will it to appear.

  I look again, and there’s the helmet. I pick it up, and before anyone can stop me this time, I open the door. Kane is on the other side, a crooked smile complimenting his leaning frame. Because this is my dream, and it’s what I want.

  His eyes burn as twin orbs of flame. I see myself reflected in them, the orange of my skin blending in until I disappear completely into the blaze. I hand him the helmet.

  “Sorry I took it.”

  “I was wondering…”

  “Did you find him?” I ask.

  “Who?”

  “Rylin.”

  “I can, but I need your help.”

  “Show me where you are.”

  In a flash, rows of baby corn blast onto the scene. The stalks begin to grow at lightning speed, towering all around us in a tangled maze. The hotel disappears, and I stand in a bed of dirt. Kane turns and walks up a row. I follow, allowing my mantra to pull me along. Kane moves fast. Too fast. But this is my dream. So Kane’s mantra joins mine, just like that. Twisted together, the sound of our link draws him back. I slide my hand into his.

  “This is my dream, Kane. I let you in. So stay with me.”

  He looks at me sidelong, a sudden recognition moving in.

  “It is your dream. I thought this felt different.”

  “Show me where you are, and we’ll find Rylin together.”